


The cloud that followed her everywhere

by yuktenisreal



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Character Centered, F/F, Heavy Angst, Mysticism, Seulrene, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, plot heavy, teenage yeri, wenjoy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuktenisreal/pseuds/yuktenisreal
Summary: Irene and Seulgi live on the opposite sides of the same road, one has everything and one has nothing. Nothing alike, what will both do when their wildly different worlds collide?





	1. Chapter 1

It rained in that part of the town every single night. Every single night, she huddled closer to the fireplace in her father’s study, staring longingly at the flames as if they could somehow answer the questions she had. She loved it when it rained, at least used to love it. Now she hated herself for loving it so much. It made Irene sick to even stand by the window, sick to enjoy even one second of the muffled sounds of water pattering against the house. The same rain that had soothed her nerves once now made her shiver, made her wish it would stop and let the world breathe. It never stopped though, not for a single second through the night did it stop.

Still, she pushed herself off the thickly carpeted floor, away from the warmth of the flames, to test whether how she felt about the way of things had changed. As she slowly peaked out from the curtains of the large oval window in her father’s study, Irene found that she did feel the same, if not so intensely as she had last night. She stood there for a moment, looking. Waiting. Would she come out today, looking as pathetic as she always did, Irene wondered. For all the patience Irene had, at that moment, she could not stand the wait, could not stand not being able to affirm that nothing had changed. That Seulgi lead the worst of lives and Irene, herself, had gotten the best of everything ever since she was a child.

She turned slightly to the left to look at the wall clock hanging above the fireplace. It was nearly 9, almost the time Seulgi came out of her house, just across the road from Irene’s, dirty and grim. Irene again looked everywhere, at Seulgi’s small house, their despondent garden with plants half-dead, the shed at the front that took the rain’s beating the hardest, but it was quiet, other than the rain’s incessant noise. There was no one outside. She should have been here by now, slight panic rose in Irene. She had grown accustomed to watching Seulgi emerge out of the house, every night at 9 as clouds poured hell over them. For months, she had been watching Seulgi struggle to cover everything their poor family valued with plastic sheets, dragging tools, cycles inside the shed, saving them from the merciless rain even while she herself drenched wholly in it. It had made Irene curious once, then sad and now she felt angry. Why could they not leave everything covered and waterproofed? Why could she not wear a raincoat? Surely they could at least afford that? Why did she always had to do it? Couldn’t her brothers, for once, do it instead? Questions, one after another, as Irene watched and watched Seulgi bear the grunt of her family’s struggle.

It was well past 9:15. Minutes began to feel like hours to Irene. Her bare feet felt uncomfortable on the carpet, her fingers clutched the curtains a little too tight. She didn’t understand why it bothered her as much as it did. It was none of her business and she had never been the nosy type. What was it that kept her eyes glued to the front door of someone else’s house?

Irene was almost ready to return to the inviting warmth of the fireplace when she heard footsteps, so much like the sound of rain hitting the road. Someone was running on the road, coming from the far right. She looked closer, annoyed at the drops collecting on the glass obstructing her vision. In a second, she pushed the window open, greeted by a shower of rain slanted by the wind. Curtains blew backwards but Irene had found her answer. Her answer was Seulgi running in the direction of her own house, clothes entirely drenched. She halted at the small gate by the front yard as if taking some time to compose herself before she entered. Irene looked closer and saw her clutching something against her chest. She couldn’t tell what it was, and hell it didn’t even matter what it was. She had seen Seulgi tuck away scraps of metal in the shed, valuable or not. Seulgi would hold a stone like it was diamond. It didn’t matter to Irene. But it clearly meant a lot to Seulgi who had already moved towards the shed, storing or hiding it away. Irene stayed at the window till Seulgi came out the shed and went inside her house. All the lights were out. It wasn’t surprising. There was always something off about these people. Like a candle that has been snuffed out.

If Irene had stayed at the window a little longer, she could have seen Seulgi painstakingly plant the sheets over everything again, but maybe it was for the better than she went inside her room a little early. It would only ignite her anger. It would only make her miserable that there existed two worlds so wildly different from each other just across the street. Just a 6-metre concrete road divided a cliff and a plunging abyss.


	2. Chapter 2

A sudden feeling of worry invaded Seulgi when she looked at the object in her hands. And because of the value this object held to her, she worried whether she’d truly be able to take care of it. Besides, there was the guilt she was trying to bury, the guilt that she had spent a huge chunk of her savings to get this camera. This money could have been spent on bills or to keep her cousin alive. Still standing in the middle of the road, Seulgi felt stuck between feeling happy and worried, happy that she was closer to her dream of being a photographer, worried that if somebody saw this in her hands they would look at her with the same disapproval in their eyes as they had that day in the past, the day she had grown out of her childhood. Seulgi could stand someone’s anger, but people’s disappointment bore her down. It stayed with her forever.

 

A thunder broke her reverie. Clouds had begun to gather, casting darkness over an already gloomy world. On days like these, Seulgi welcomed the noise, the darkness. It would be easier for her to conceal parts of herself that she was ashamed of. Parts that made her cringe and withdraw from herself. And then turning on her heels, Seulgi broke into a run. The rumbling sky grew louder. It would pour soon, and so she ran as fast as her feet would carry her. 

 

She was still on the shortcut that cut through the primary school where she had once studied when it began raining. Her legs cramped from running, her lungs burned, yet she kept running, clutching the small second-hand-camera in her crossed arms, on a path that although well worn had vines that could trip her any moment. In seconds, she was out on an open road again, leading straight up to the only two houses atop the slightly raised hill. Her own on the right side and another on the left that towered massively over hers. Grandeur. Lively. Always encased in light. She looked at her house, which was only visible because of the lighting pillars the house at  the front had on both sides of its entrance gate. Her house stood dim-lit, flat-topped, dull and timid in comparison to what stood facing it. Seulgi didn’t mind the state of things as much she minded how people around her minded it so much. With so few people up here, it was hard not to see things, hard to ignore that one could not even look in the eyes of someone wealthier than them.

She wished there were more people here, more people of her social standing, or just more visitors to fill in the vast landscapes. The company of enthusiastic tourists was the only relief Seulgi had when she wanted to photograph people. Sometimes she even drew them. Talked to them about their lives, their worlds, though she did not really understand what pleasure they found in desolate greeneries such as this. Why did people seek out silence so much? All Seulgi wanted was the bustle, a crowd, people that knew what living meant, people who were actually living and not struggling to survive tucked away in a remote part of the world. But even these tourists came less frequently now. The marketplace only ever saw bored-looked residents of their unchanging town. The rain was to be blamed, everyone said. 

Over the years, she had grown up watching people leave the countryside one by one. It rained here so often that it became unbearable for most people. Every year the crop turnout became worse, the shortcuts too muddy. For most rich people that came to vacation here in their countryside mansions, the place lost its charm. Too many insects. Too many inconveniences. Then there was this one family, other than Seulgi’s own, that had refused to budge so far. On so many quiet mornings, when Seulgi left her house and found the mansion at front quiet, she wondered if they had finally given up too but then she would spot her uncle gardening in their house and Seulgi would breathe a sigh of relief. For some reason, she had come to see that house, like her own, as a constant. Unchanging. The girl in the window, her stoic eyes, always scrutinizing her, were so distant yet so familiar. One day, Seulgi hoped she would have the guts to look up and meet her gaze. She wanted to scream, don’t pity me. But all she did was let her eyes fall to the ground and her feet carry her to the shed where she would store her camera away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot building sometimes takes away from the entertainment. Next chapter will be about an encounter between the two and definitely more interesting than this one, so please look forward to it. Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

Yeri looked at her sister with hopeful eyes. If there was a God out there, Yeri, at that moment, was pleading to heavens to hear her desire. All she wanted was to be out of this boring hillside for once, to be away in the city, having greasy food in a popular restaurant miles away with her best friend. They had been planning this for months. A little getaway, ignoring the fact that Yeri’s family had hardly ever allowed her to be at places without supervision. She didn’t understand why. Her father’s frequent absence meant the decision came to rest upon her grandmother. She had gotten her sister to talk to grandma about it instead but the expression on Irene’s face didn’t look like things had gone well.

 

Still, Yeri waited. And Irene shook her head with a sad smile.

 

“She said no,” Irene said, in a comforting tone. The hope drained out of Yeri. She fought to let it show on her face. Even though she felt heartbroken. How would she tell Joy that all their planning was for nothing? She could imagine the disappointment on Joy’s face and how she would comfort Yeri although it hurt her too.

 

Irene could see Yeri struggling with tears. It made her so fond of Yeri, her little sister who always tried to be mature, act beyond her age, to deal with her emotions alone. She did not need to be so strong always. Irene put her hand on Yeri’s shoulder.

 

Yeri looked up, tears pooling in her eyes.

 

“It’s the sixth time, she has said no to something. What does she want?” Yeri said, the last few words adjoined by a burst of tears. She felt so angry, yet all she could do was cry. She wiped them away, one after another.

 

Irene could understand how Yeri felt, for every day she felt the same. It was suffocating to stand in that room now, Irene could not bear to see her sister crying. Must everyone in this town be so miserable?

 

“Come, Yeri. Let’s go for a walk today,” Irene said, gently steering Yeri out of the room with one arm around her shoulder.

 

“A walk won’t make me feel better,” Yeri said, sniffling but calmer than before. She regretted being loud. She regretted making that plan in the first place. She regretted that she was born in this part of the town. But when she looked at her sister’s serene face, she instantly regretted her previous thought. She had no right to complain, after what her sister had gone through so patiently, Yeri felt like she had seen nothing.

 

“I want ice-cream,” Yeri said, voice low and ashamed.

 

“We have some in the fridge,” Irene said, smiling at Yeri.

 

“No, I want it from the market. That ugly mango one that you hate,” she said, smiling a little now.

 

“When was the last time you walked that far? The farthest you ever go is from your bed to the kitchen,” Irene joked. And then they were both laughing. It wasn’t true laughter but it made them feel a little better. It made them think that at least they had each other. The world took more than it gave, but between themselves, sisters could share both happiness and grief.

 

The walk was peaceful, the sun would set in an hour or two. The clouds were scarce and hadn’t yet gathered. The sunlight felt good on her skin and with every step, Irene felt giddier. The farther she walked away from her house, the freer she felt, more optimistic. Even Yeri seemed to be doing better now. Her tears had dried up on her cheeks, the sniffling was the only reminder that she had cried just minutes ago. Irene linked her arm with Yeri’s and they talked about their childhood, the memories of their family on yearly seaside vacations. Their sandcastles, summers spent swimming in salty waters, the laughter when they chased each other on scorching sand, their parents serene in each other’s company.

 

Something hitched inside Irene. Enough, she thought. Enough, her heart screamed when she saw Seulgi, standing in a field of weeds on the left side of the road. She had a camera in her hand and she stood facing the sun, her back towards Irene. Yeri saw her too. Irene's eyes glued themselves to Seulgi, her hair blowing softly in the wind, camera held delicately, poised towards some flowers probably.

 

Yeri tugged at Irene’s arm. “Let’s go,” she pleaded. The last thing Yeri wanted was to come home late and be the rain’s victim. Besides she couldn’t understand her sister’s fixation with that girl. Of course, Yeri had noticed how often Irene stared out the front window.

 

Irene yielded to the tug and let herself be guided by an eager Yeri who had taken up to chanting “ice-cream” every few seconds, but Irene was too engrossed in her thoughts to be amused any longer.

 

She suddenly stopped. Yeri looked at her, questioningly.

 

“You can go.”

 

“Huh?” Yeri cocked her head. What did Irene even mean?

 

“You can go on that trip. I’ll give you the money and I’ll help you pack. Tell Joy,” Irene said, looking almost too calm for what she was implying.

 

“Wh-What are you saying? What about grandma?” Yeri said, still baffled. But a hope had sprouted in her heart. Yeri had given up on being rebellious a long time ago but this was coming from Irene. Irene, who never said no to grandma. Irene, who was the peacemaker in the house.

 

Yeri’s lips twitched up into a smile.

 

“I’ll handle her. You go. I’ll be the one to tell her.”

 

Even though Yeri felt guilty that because of her, Irene would face grandma’s wrath, she couldn’t contain her giddiness. It was exhilarating. She hugged Irene, jumping on her feet a little. And then turning around, she began to run back towards the house.

 

“Where are you going? What happened to wanting ice-cream?” Irene said, watching her speed away.

 

“Later! I’m gonna go tell Joy. I love you, Irene unnie! You're the best.”

 

Irene watched her run till she disappeared behind a bend in the road and then she herself walked in the same direction, though with much less urgency. The sun had begun to set over the green hills, casting everything in a deep yellow hue, almost orange. Irene did not acknowledge it to herself that she was walking towards the same field where Seulgi had stood, engrossed in taking photographs.

 

Irene visibly gasped. She had expected Seulgi to have left the spot by now, but she was still there. This time, sitting on a rock sign painted to mark the distance to next town. Her eyes were set on the sun. She seemed to be staring at nothing. It broke Irene in whole another way entirely to see people lonely. She wanted to say something, maybe move from where she stood frozen. But all she could do was stand staring, her fists clenched.

 

“It’s going to rain,” was what Irene ended up saying and then mentally scolded herself. Of course, it would rain. It rained every night. Everyone knew that.

 

Seulgi was so startled, it made Irene laughed.

 

Getting up to face Irene, Seulgi rubbed her neck to relieve the pain of how fast she had whipped it around. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The sight of Irene laughing, although her hands covered her mouth, her eyes crinkled at the corners, the sounds of sheer laughter resounded in the air, and the golden light on Irene’s unrealistically beautiful face was almost too much for Seulgi to process. She gaped on. Her fingers itched to capture it in her camera.

 

Irene stifled her laughter but the dumbfounded look on Seulgi’s face almost made her laugh again.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry for startling you,” Irene said, voice slightly apologetic.

 

Seulgi just nodded, wondering if she could somehow take a picture of Irene right there. Just one and it would be enough. But like always, she found it hard to even look Irene in the eyes, although they lacked the indifference they seemed to have held from distance. Had she judged Irene too soon? Or was this some sort of mockery too? Seulgi didn’t know and maybe she didn’t care. All she knew was that an amazement stood in front of her.

 

“Can I take a photo of you?” Seulgi blurted, slightly cringing at her own eagerness.

 

Irene looked down at the camera in Seulgi’s hands.

 

“...only if you don’t mind…” Seulgi trailed off. She shouldn’t have asked that. It was too soon. She was scared that she’d weird Irene out and that any moment, Irene would make a judgemental face, her eyes would reacquire the same old coldness and she'd turn around to leave. But Irene just nodded.

 

And then her screams filled the air.


	4. Chapter 4

How do people call themselves courageous? Seulgi wondered, sitting in her tiny backyard at the edge of which the hill plunged steeply to reveal the orange remnants the sunset had left behind. Was being courageous once enough? Or did you have to stand up again and again till someone else does it for you? Do you even have to be courageous for yourself or do you only need to do it for others? Seulgi had no answers. She only knew that in her entire life of 18 years she had been courageous only once. As a child, dragged out of the park by the collar of her dress, Seulgi remembered flailing around with arms too weak, struggling against her aunt’s tight grip, in her first and last outburst of courage. She remembered screaming with a choking voice, pleading, “I did it, I did it. She didn’t do anything.” She remembered Irene looking up at her dad whose lips moved to ask something. Seulgi did not hear the question but she saw Irene nodding. They were kids. They were only kids, everyone who saw said and the next day, just like that they weren’t let into each other’s sight, not allowed to play. Just like that, they weren’t seen as kids. Or maybe that was the case only for Seulgi.

 

And then, Seulgi laughed, remembering, how only yesterday, Irene had no courage when it came to something so little. At once, in her mind, she could hear again how loudly Irene had screamed.

 

“He isn’t going to bite you. Hey, hey-” Seulgi had said, trying to wedge herself between a frantically screaming Irene and her dog. Slug had begun to bark even louder while Seulgi tried to calm Irene down. It wasn’t working very well between both of them growing louder and louder, so she did what was the most practical solution in that situation. She clamped a hand on Irene’s mouth, who was slowly backing away.

 

“Your screams are scaring him,” Seulgi managed to say, trying to hide her amusement, to Irene whose screams although muffled my Seulgi’s hand were still audible. Eventually, her frantic eyes returned to normal, her breathing against Seulgi’s hands slowed down and seeing Slug already wagging his tail behind Seulgi relieved Irene somewhat. Maybe she would have felt embarrassed at her reaction if Seulgi were standing a little farther away but with that proximity, Irene saw after many years, Seulgi’s warms eyes, her huge grin that left her eyes a little closed, her cheeks full and flushed, her bangs an awry mess. For the first time in many years, Irene was looking at Seulgi. Not just staring her down but really looking. Her chest was burning with a feeling she didn’t quite understand. And it burned with an intensity that threw her back into a storm of childhood memories. Of Seulgi and her hiding behind a tree, Seulgi’s lips pecking her cheek quickly and the amusement of a discovery, the thrill of innocent curiosity. She remembers kissing Seulgi’s hands, eyelids and her right cheek. A flurry of steps, parents shouting at each other but the only things she remembers vividly is Seulgi fighting their fate and she remembered weakly nodding when her father asked, “Is what she's saying true?” Her chest had burned with anguish. Anguish that only helpless children can feel. Anguish, when something precious is taken away from them, for a child's world is narrow, and their attention singular.

 

One day she woke up with different attachments and lived with them. But looking at Seulgi again, bought something back to the surface. It brought up bad memories, what’s worse is that it brought up fond memories and a longing. Irene hated the sudden realization of why she spent so much time staring out the window looking and judging Seulgi. She found herself running away. Running away from Seulgi, her stupid dog, what they had been, all that they could’ve been.

 

Seulgi, stunned, watched Irene run away from her and wished she was courageous. She wished she could stop Irene and ask, why do you treat me this way? I stood up for you. Can’t you at least stand the sight of me? Then she just felt stupid. It didn’t matter. They were only kids back then. Only kids. They had grown up now and life had greater pains to throw their way. 

 

Seulgi had scooped Slug in her arms and walked home, thinking maybe distance did work for things like this. All of a sudden, the thought of this town suffocated her. It rains so much, she thought looking up at the clouds swirling in. A raindrop fell on her right cheek. More memories. 


End file.
